Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,291

once won’t be enough.”

There was something about him—the fervency in his eyes, in his voice—that sent a thrill of hope and terror up her spine. Because that didn’t sound fake, and it didn’t sound like a favour. Rae found herself wondering: if Zach’s attraction was tied up in their emotional bond, what did it mean that he wanted her so badly? Could this look, this touch, so painfully intense, really come from friendship?

She should ask him. And yet, she didn’t. Instead, she rocked her hips imperceptibly forward, biting her lip as the pressure against her clit increased. “Okay,” she breathed.

“Good. Now, finish your wine,” he said quietly, “or, better yet, leave it here and come upstairs so I can make you scream.”

Why, exactly, do you want to? She swallowed down a difficult question and a decadent moan. “You know, you can be kind of bossy.”

Those midnight lashes fluttered as his gaze dropped to his hand, still pressed between her thighs. “Good thing you like it, or we might have a problem.” His eyes flew back to hers. “Do we have a problem?”

So, so many. But her control was just a memory now. She didn’t have it in her to deny herself again. “No problems here,” she lied. “Unless you count the fact that you’re not inside me already.”

With a scrape of barstools against the floor, he was standing, dragging her up beside him. His hands gripped her hips with a possessiveness that thrilled her. He murmured in her ear, “You good?”

“I’m good.” Her heart was going haywire for reasons other than the usual.

“Then let’s solve that problem.”

Chapter 12

Zach’s plan was simple: he’d leave Rae at the elevator, sprint to the nearest chemist for a lifetime’s supply of condoms, then follow her upstairs and fuck her until she couldn’t live without it. Or at least until she was happy again.

He had the weirdest feeling that her sadness tonight had something to do with… him. Them. The boundaries they’d both agreed to, the ones that felt like chains weighing him down. Maybe it was arrogance, maybe it was wishful thinking, but he swore she struggled under that weight too. The connection between them was on fire, and the scorch marks on his heart belonged to her. He hoped she knew it.

But she was hesitant, and he understood why. He’d already suspected that most of the people Rae loved had only ever hurt her in return. Now, after their conversation at the bar, he finally grasped the way to her heart: he needed to earn her trust before he could take anything else. Needed to show her, bit by bit, that he would never give her a reason to regret him. Thankfully, he’d already started doing that. And, since he planned to continue by treating her just right in the bedroom, he dragged her through the hotel foyer like the building was on fire.

“Should I be worried?” she asked dryly. “Like, when we get to our room, are you going to rip my clothes to shreds in a fit of manly passion? Because I really like this T-shirt.”

“If you like the T-shirt,” he muttered, “I’ll take that off the old-fashioned way.”

“So, you are going to rip my clothes off,” she announced, triumphant.

“If you don’t take them off fast enough.” Speaking of fast enough, had everyone in this hotel conspired to get in his fucking way tonight?

“I want to think you’re teasing, but you have a face like thunder. You look so furious,” she whispered, “people are going to think we’re running off to argue.”

“Who the fuck runs off to argue?” He parted a group of boring men in boring suits with nothing but a glare and yanked her through the gap.

“I never argue in public,” she said primly.

“We’ll argue in public at some point.” Maybe that gave too much away. Maybe it revealed how badly he wanted to make this weekend’s relationship a reality. Oh fucking well.

She must have assumed he was talking in terms of their friendship, because she replied easily enough. “We will not argue in public,” she insisted as they reached the elevators. “I refuse.”

He stabbed the up button and turned, pulling her close. Her hands slid over his shoulders, her breasts were pressed against his chest, and her pretty, startled face was close enough to kiss. “We’re arguing in public right now,” he told her softly.

Her cheeks darkened. “We are not. This isn’t arguing.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

He arched a brow. “Is this arguing?”

“You are honestly the most annoying